Sexy Beast--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Read online

  And even though she was the one doing what I told her, even though she’d just taken her punishment like a champion, and then come like a fucking superstar, screaming her pleasure to the heavens, it was me who was on the brink. Me who suddenly wanted, more than anything in the entire goddamn world, to lock her in my bedroom for the next month at least.

  What the fuck have you done?

  The question broke through my Dom high, the calm and intense focus draining away, and I was suddenly aware that my breathing was way too fast, my jaw aching. My dick was pressed to the softness of her stomach and I was on a knife-edge.

  I wanted to fuck her so badly I couldn’t speak.

  She shuddered across my legs, her beautiful body trembling with the force of her climax, and her ass was the most gorgeous red. I hadn’t gone easy on her, but I hadn’t been too hard for a newbie. And I’d delivered the spanking fast to get it over with so she didn’t have time to get too concerned.

  I groped for my calm, for the high that had been there before, but it was gone. There was only the roar of my own need pounding in my head.

  Get a fucking grip.

  Yeah, I had to. And there were only two ways to deal with it: get up and leave, handle my dick myself in the privacy of my own bathroom. Or I fucked her and got it over and done with.

  Fucking her, though, felt like giving in, admitting I was on the edge of my control, and I couldn’t afford that. Control was the only thing that separated me from my old man and I wasn’t giving that up for anyone. Yet what the hell else could I do? I couldn’t get up and leave immediately, not without seeing if she was okay and giving her some aftercare. Some people needed it more than others, and usually I was pretty good at it, though I kept myself at a distance, obviously.

  Except I couldn’t do that with Freya. And being distant with her, walking away, would hurt her far more than any spanking would.

  Christ, I was screwed. Or, rather, I would be. Soon.

  ‘E?’ Freya asked in a croaky-sounding voice, beginning to shift on my knees.

  That decided me. I didn’t want her to see how close to the edge of my control I was, and if she got up she would. So I held her down, my hand on her back. ‘Stay there,’ I ordered curtly. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’

  Then I moved, shifting her so she was lying face down on the couch before kneeling behind her. I pulled out a condom and rolled it down over my cock with hands that were shaking far too much for my liking. Then I pulled her up on her knees so that perfect ass was facing me, still reddened from where I’d spanked her.

  Fucking gorgeous.

  I wanted my high back, wanted the calm so I could focus on her more, but it had gone and there was no time.

  ‘E?’ She shifted, trying to turn her head toward me. ‘Are you okay?’

  Jesus. After spanking her, she was the one wondering if I was okay.

  I didn’t answer. Instead I gripped my dick and fitted the head to her perfect little pussy. I’d wanted to tease her, make her beg for this, make her beg for me, but the feel of her blew the last shreds of my control sky-high.

  ‘Going to fuck you now,’ I growled, letting her know where I was at, and then I shoved myself home.

  She groaned, her back arching. ‘Oh...yes...’ Pleasure vibrated in her voice and when I shoved deeper she trembled.

  The heat of her wiped every thought from my head, the clutch of her pussy around my cock like nothing I’d ever felt in my life. She held me so tightly, so completely. Like the way she hugged me, it felt like she was grounding me.

  I found myself stroking her ass, her skin like warm satin, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving, sliding out of her and then back in. Deeper. Harder. Faster.

  She panted, lifting her hips to my thrust, taking me as hard as I was taking her. And I’d been going to lean forward and take that silky plait in my hands, wind it around my wrists and use it to tease her, edging a little pain, but all thought of more teasing was gone. Completely.

  Instead I put my hands on her hips and gripped her tight, thrusting hard into her. She felt so good, so fucking good. Too good. As if our friendship had been a jigsaw puzzle that had always been missing a piece and this—sex—was it. The final piece that made an entire picture.

  I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have had her. I should never have touched her. But now it was too late. Now, I was going to come and hard, and way before I was ready.

  Jesus, when had that ever happened? Fucking never.

  She was moaning, her whole body trembling, and I wasn’t going to last, not the way I wanted to, so I reached around and slid my fingers down between her thighs, finding her swollen clit. Then I stroked her as I thrust.

  A cry broke from her and her pussy clenched hard around my cock as she came, and then I was thrusting harder, deeper, driving myself into her as the pleasure swept up my spine and exploded in my head like a fucking firework.

  I think I might have roared her name. I definitely shouted something as it hit, and it was all I could do to hold myself together as it annihilated me.

  As the pleasure bounced around on the inside of my skull, echoing and re-echoing, I slumped forward over her, barely aware of where I was. She was all softness and sweet musky heat beneath me and I wanted to nuzzle against her skin, lick her all over, then take her again. Harder this time.

  Make her yours.

  The thought glowed in my head like a neon sign and for a second I couldn’t do anything but stare at it, because what the hell? Make her mine? She already was mine. My friend. And a friend she needed to stay.

  I didn’t want to move but I forced myself to pull out of her, getting off the couch and heading straight into the suite’s bathroom, shutting the door.

  My hands shook as I dealt with the condom and then I stood there, holding the basin, my head bent, trying to pull myself the fuck together.

  Because I had to. I was the Dom. I had to be in control, always.

  And I wasn’t now, because she’d got to me. She’d got under my fucking skin. She’d given me that Dom high, made me think things about making her mine, and that wasn’t supposed to happen, not with her. This was a one night only deal and we weren’t going to do this again.

  So what are you going to do? Leave her out there alone? Not touch her again tonight?

  I couldn’t do that, not after what I’d promised her. She deserved more. And she definitely deserved a man who was in control of himself, not losing it like—

  I shut my eyes, my dad’s face and his pleased smile replaying itself in my memory. To this day I don’t know what made that night any different from all the others, because Dad got drunk every Saturday night and he always took it out on me. I usually tried to make sure I was in my bedroom with the door locked, but that night I went downstairs to get a drink of water, thinking that he was passed out on the couch, that I was safe. But I wasn’t safe and he wasn’t passed out on the couch. He was in the kitchen and he cuffed me around the head, starting in with his usual litany of bullshit, about how hard it was being a single dad and all the opportunities he’d missed because he’d had to look after me. He usually lost interest after a couple of punches, but that Saturday I realised something: I was bigger and stronger than he was.

  And something in me snapped.

  Rage poured out of me, years of putting up with his shit coming to a head, and I turned around and punched him in the face before I could stop myself. And after that I kind of lost it. The next thing I knew, Dad was on the floor, blood all over his face, and just before he fell into unconsciousness he smiled, like he was proud of me, and said, ‘Real chip off the old block, aren’t you, son?’

  He saw it in me even then, and I’d felt it in the rage that had nearly eaten me alive, the potential to be like him. So, control it had to be. I had to keep a tight rein on my temper, keep everything locked down, because I never,
ever wanted to turn into him.

  So far, I’d never had a problem keeping my shit together. Never had anything that would threaten it.

  Until tonight. Until Freya.

  Overreacting much? You fucked her once and it was good. That doesn’t mean anything.

  True. Perhaps I was overreacting. It was just a night after all. It wasn’t going to happen again. Besides, I certainly couldn’t go back in there and pretend none of this had happened, or walk out like a fucking coward. That wouldn’t be fair on her, not when she’d been so into it.

  And so into you and what you did to her.

  I gritted my teeth against the wave of intense satisfaction that thought brought me. Yeah, I didn’t need that kind of temptation in my head right now.

  We’d had sex, just like I’d promised, and maybe if I’d been less concerned with her feelings I would have told her it was over and we needed to go to bed. Separately.

  But I couldn’t do that with her. I couldn’t spank her, fuck her, then have everything return to normal immediately. Perhaps I could have if she’d been a stranger, or an experienced sub, but she wasn’t either of those things. She was my friend, who’d trusted me to introduce her to a new experience, and I couldn’t tarnish it by being a dick about it now.

  I couldn’t let her down like that.

  Pushing myself away from the basin, I went back out into the suite.

  Freya had found a throw from somewhere and was sitting on the couch wrapped up in it. She gave me a wary look as I came back, and I could see the worry in her eyes. Of course she had no idea why I’d walked away like that and naturally she’d be questioning herself.

  ‘What’s up?’ she began. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t—’

  ‘Why are you covering yourself?’ I held her gaze, letting her know that nothing had changed, that I was resuming my Dom role. ‘I didn’t tell you that you could.’

  A flush moved through her skin, turning her the most delightful shade of pink. Her eyes glowed, the tension in her body gradually bleeding away. ‘Oh, but I—’

  I grabbed one end of the throw and jerked it away from her, leaving her naked on the couch. ‘Much better.’ Taking a step towards her, I raised a hand to the collar of my shirt, beginning to unbutton it, liking how her gaze dropped to watch as the fabric parted. Hunger rose in her eyes and satisfaction coiled deep inside me. I could find that high again. With her it would always be within reach. And maybe I’d let myself have it for tonight. It would make it much better for the both of us—no, not just better. It would make it phenomenal.

  And if there was one thing that my Little deserved it was phenomenal.

  Tomorrow could take care of itself.

  ‘Now,’ I murmured, shrugging out of my shirt, ‘where were we?’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Freya

  I CRACKED OPEN an eye the next morning and for a second couldn’t work out where I was. It looked like a hotel room—a very nice hotel room—with views across a city—a familiar city...

  Recognition hit me, along with the memory of everything that had happened the night before. The orgasm that Everett had given me in the hallway at the British Museum. The orgasm he’d given me back in the living area of his hotel suite. The orgasm I’d had with him deep inside me...

  So. Many. Orgasms.

  Heat washed through me and I had to close my eyes again, more than a little overwhelmed. By everything Everett had done to me the night before. By my own reaction to him. By the sheer amazingness of the sex.

  By the weirdness of doing all of that with my best friend.

  We’d done a whole lot more out in the living room after he’d come back from the bathroom, and I had to admit to being more than slightly exhausted by the time he’d picked me up in his arms and taken me into the master bedroom, where he was sleeping. Then he’d laid me in the bed and got in beside me, wrapped his big, warm arms around me and told me to go to sleep.

  And I had. Instantly.

  But now I was awake and the morning was here, the next day beginning and... I opened my eyes once more and turned my head on the pillow.

  There was no one beside me. I was alone.

  My throat felt a bit achy, which was weird, and I told myself it didn’t matter that he wasn’t here. We’d said it was only for the night and the next day we’d go back to normal. Put it behind us, no harm, no foul.

  Yet I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t going to be as easy as that. Not when last night had been...well...were there enough superlatives in the world to fully describe it? Amazing. Phenomenal. Incredible. But even that didn’t cover the way Everett had made me feel.

  It went beyond simple physical pleasure. He’d made me feel good about myself in a way I hadn’t felt for a long time. And that brought a little bit of pain with it, because I’d always thought I was fine with being the big Clydesdale in a room full of show ponies. But apparently I wasn’t all that fine. Because with a burning look and a few simple words of praise, Everett had nearly made me cry.

  He’d always accepted me as I was, liked me as I was. So to know that he also lusted after me as I was had flicked a switch inside me. Last night, even though I’d followed his orders, I’d felt powerful and sexy and strong, not to mention intensely feminine.

  I’d never felt that way before and it was...pretty damn good.

  And now it’s over.

  The ache in my throat deepened. Yeah, of course, it was over. One night, that was what we’d said. And I didn’t want anything more. Everett was my friend, and a friend was more important to me than anything else. Relationships were more hassle than they were worth, especially when the shine wore off, as it always did. At least a friend stuck by you, no matter what.

  On that rousing thought I pushed myself out of bed, wincing slightly as unfamiliar muscles pulled, reminding me of everything Everett and I had done the night before. Hunger for him gripped me suddenly and sharply, and I had to stop and take a steadying breath to force it back.

  He’d given me what I’d asked for and it seemed like he’d enjoyed himself too, but now we’d satisfied our curiosity that was it. I’d successfully achieved Operation Orgasm and I was certain it would happen again. With another guy.

  Yeah, are you sure about that?

  Ignoring the niggling doubt, I slipped into the massive bathroom and treated myself to a hot shower. A part of me didn’t want to wash the scent of him and of sex away, but keeping that on my skin would have been weird so I gave myself a decent scrub. Might as well start as I meant to continue.

  There was a thick white towelling robe hanging from a hook near the shower, so after I’d got out I put it on and belted it firmly. I had no idea what time it was, but it was clearly full morning and I was starving.

  Breakfast and caffeine were needed, stat.

  I wandered out into the living area of the suite, only to come to a dead stop as I spotted Everett sitting at the dining room table. He had his laptop open in front of him and he was clearly in the middle of some work. It would have looked very professional if he hadn’t also been wearing only a pair of jeans.

  My mouth went bone-dry, my brain helpfully replaying memories of the night before in my head. Him, unbuttoning his white shirt. Him, unzipping his pants. Him, naked. Golden skin. A scattering of crisp blond hair on his powerful chest. Sharply defined, rock-hard muscle. The way my stern Viking was built was enough to make Thor jealous.

  I couldn’t stop looking at him now, the way the light fell on him through the windows gilding his smooth skin, turning his blond hair bright gold. He was frowning at his computer screen, his profile all intense concentration, and something inside me clenched hard.

  You’re never going to find another man like him and you know it.

  I swallowed. No, of course I wouldn’t. Everett Calhoun was one of a kind. There wasn’t anyone else like him, and if I wanted anythi
ng resembling a future sex life I was going to have to adjust my expectations.

  Pushing aside the way my stomach dipped, in what I told myself definitely wasn’t bitter disappointment, I strolled over to the table, pulled out a chair beside him and sat myself down in it.

  He didn’t look up, which was probably for the best, since looking at him close up wasn’t any better for my peace of mind than looking at him from far away. In fact, it was worse because there was a mark on his neck that I knew I’d given him, and there was one on my inner thigh that he’d given me in punishment.

  And then thinking of punishment set off another train of memories that I didn’t need right now, making my butt suddenly feel hot and my pussy throb and every other inch of skin feel achingly sensitive.

  Goddamn it.

  ‘Hey,’ I said into the silence. ‘So, is there breakfast?’

  He nodded over to a trolley that I’d somehow missed seeing, covered in various silver-domed platters. There was a basket of rolls and pastries and also—blessedly—a steaming carafe of coffee.

  ‘Oh, great,’ I said, staring at him. ‘Thank you.’

  He still didn’t look up. His blond brows didn’t even twitch.

  ‘A “Good morning, how are you today?” might be nice.’ I probably shouldn’t have pressed the issue, but I couldn’t help it. I just wanted him to look up and make eye contact.

  Finally, his gaze lifted, his direct blue gaze meeting mine. There was nothing of the heat that had been in there the night before, nothing of the hunger or the intensity. There was only slight exasperation, the look he always gave me when he was in the middle of doing something and I was interrupting.

  Clearly we were back to being friends again.

  ‘Good morning, how are you today?’ he said without inflection. ‘There. Happy now?’

  I should have been happy. I should have been really pleased that we were back to normal. But I wasn’t.

  I forced a smile. ‘Ecstatic. Want a coffee?’

  He looked back down at his computer. ‘Yeah, that would be great.’